Who Let Him Cultivate Immortality - Chapter 469: The anniversary celebration is getting more and more lively

Luo Fei does not fear being rivals in love with Xi Yanqing; what he fears is that they have transmigrated to ancient times and become betrothed to each other!

Father Luo: Eh?! Not getting married? How about I break your legs if you don’t get married?!

Luo Fei: Dad, ahh, Dad! Aiyo, stop beating me now! I’ll just go get married okay?

Xi Yanqing: You know that you can’t escape and now you’ll have to pay for it. Did you leave without bringing your IQ?

Luo Fei: You with the surname Xi doesn’t have to sleep on the bed on the wedding night!

Xi Yanqing: Oh.

Luo Fei Who on His Wedding Night was Pressed to the Trunk of a Peach Tree at the Entrance: …f**k you surnamed Xi! This isn’t what I meant!!!

- Description from Novelupdates

In the virtual world, power is what you seek. In reality, it’s the pursuit of truth.

But the game is not actually a game.

Evolution!

- Description from Novelupdates

“What kind of guardian would you want to be? the one who destroys everything or the one who protects everything?”

Jason, one of the many casualties during a nuclear explosion gets the chance to reincarnate into another world due to his deeds during the war.

He gets tossed to another world due to ending up with the Shadow god as his patron, something deemed impossible.

With a system to guide him in the world of Clover and a family jinxed through the generations, his adventurous life in new world begin.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”